Unwelcome, Unethical and Dangerously Perceptive
by Kate Higgins
Summary: An old... friend arrives in LA after being snubbed in Sunnydale (guess who?), and ends up being far too insightful for the liking of the members of Angel Investigations. [C/A]
1. A Drink-Sodden Doormat

Unwelcome, Unethical and Dangerously Perceptive  
  
by Katharine (kaffeineaddict@hotmail.com)  
  
Summary: An old... friend arrives in LA after being snubbed in Sunnydale (guess who?), and ends up being far too insightful for the liking of the members of Angel Investigations - it's Cordelia/Angel again, I'm afraid :-)...  
  
Rating: It won't end up anything more than R; at the moment, I'm not sure.  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine, not mine. Neither the cast of Angel or of Buffy. Please contact me if any jobs on the staff of either show become available. However, I'm ashamed to say that I probably do own the empty bottle of Absolut Vodka. Explains the delusions.  
  
Spoilers: Up to Crush on Buffy, and a bit past present on Angel - ie, they've had some time to make up after Angel went a bit schizo. Imagine, if you will, that a certain un-person wasn't in I Was Made To Love You, that he just sulked for a couple of weeks, then went to LA. Hmmm, the timelines are a bit screwed, but never mind.   
  
Notes: So, it's the multi-chapter extravaganza! C'mon, it was inevitable. And, I'm proud to announce, there IS a curse (not such a good thing), which means I'm living in the realms of relative reality for the minute... I'll get around it though, you just wait... [evil laughter]. This is more my original angsty yet a little fluffy approach.  
  
Distribution: If you like it, take it... just let me know where it's gone.  
  
If you send me feedback, I'll keep writing... I know how annoying it is to start reading a story that never gets finished.  
  
  
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She yawned, stretched her arms, opened her eyes, and looked around. Cordelia's apartment was a mess. She groaned. There were books set randomly about the living room, various dangerous looking weapons just looking like an accident about to happen, plates were stacked in the sink, and half-full mugs of strong black coffee placed where someone was eventually bound to knock them all over her cream carpet. Angel Investigations had moved in. Again.  
  
She supposed it was her fault. She had been getting at Angel for months to have the Hyperion renovated and properly decorated, and David Nabbit, after stopping by the other day, had suddenly decided that 'a group of heroes against darkness need a proper lair from which to operate'. Please don't let it be a batcave, she thought for the millionth time. What she hadn't realised, after being in full support of Nabbit's support, was that Wesley's 'flat' wasn't hardly big enough to swing a cat in, and smelt like a few dozen had died there. So there had never been any choice, really. Straight back to her small, but previously beautiful apartment. And, even worse, it wasn't just the three of them, nooo, there was Gunn, and sometimes even Kate stopped by to have a bitch and a moan.   
  
God, she hated that woman. Kate claimed that she never wanted anything to do with any of them ever again, that they had ruined her perfect LAPD lifestyle, but still managed to drop by to make their lives hell every so often. Unfortunately, with her intricate knowledge of police business, and, well, passwords, she could be helpful. The LA police were about as bright as Sunnydale's finest - they had fired Kate, taken her badge and her gun, yet hadn't quite remembered to delete her from the computer network. Idiots.  
  
Well, at least the more personal side of the business had almost gotten back to normal now - Wesley's bullet hole was healing up nicely, she and Angel were back on friendly terms, Angel had got through his psychotic chase-after-blonde-bitch phase (the Queen C left in Cordy said 'well, it's not like that hasn't been going on for a good couple of years anyway'), Dru and Darla had seemingly fallen off the planet ('v. good thing'), and Kate had stopped attempting suicide ('damn'). Fine, she didn't hate Kate that much. It was just that her constant 'oh, woe is me, I have nothing left that is worth living for' was starting to grate on her nerves. Cordelia had had it a lot worse than poor little Katie could ever imagine. Let's recap, shall we? And these were the worst bits.   
  
#1 - nearly get staked through the heart by crazy Buffy Summers. #2 - find out about all things supernatural after boyfriend killed horribly and messily. #3 - get locked in a broom closet with Willow Rosenberg while being terrorised by Spike. #3 - end up dating that loser Xander Harris. #4 - entire time period involving Angelus, big, bad, very very dangerous. #5 - Summers runs off, leaving me as bait. Skip through a bit. #6 - Get impaled after seeing Rosenberg and Harris necking after another Spike trauma. #7 - lose all friends. #8 - lose all money. That was the worst. Ugh. Giant snake, disown parents, move to LA in strange fit of independence, after spending the only money she had on a really nasty apartment. So, in fact, her life actually had changed for the better when she found Angel in LA. Funny, if anyone had ever said to her a couple of years ago that she would think that losing another best friend, being impregnated with demons and receiving skull splitting migraines periodically was a change for the better, she would have laughed before criticising their fashion sense. Times change, huh?  
  
Right, that was enough emotional battering she could take for the day. Sprawled across her sofa, she stretched out her fingers, reaching for the remote control. As always, it was just out of reach. She looked over at the armchair, in which Wesley was fast asleep. There was an electric light gleaming from underneath the door of a small, windowless side room, where Angel had a bed and what seemed like his entire collection of novels. He went there during the day, to avoid becoming roast vampire, because of the huge windows in her apartment...  
  
Day. Day? Cordy, suddenly very much awake, jumped up. She had the most major, national commercial audition - she looked at the clock - four hours ago. Shit. She would cry, if she had the energy, or the belief in herself that she might have got it. But, it was one o'clock in the afternoon, a bit late really. Or early, depending if she was on creature-of-the-night hours. Angel. Why the hell didn't he wake her up. The bastard!  
  
"Angel!!" she yelled, banging on his door. Behind her, Wesley jolted into the land of the in some way living, saying:  
  
"I'm awake, I'm awake."  
  
"Angel, I'm coming in!". Cordy swung open the door, to find Angel lying on the bed, reading some old, dusty novel.  
  
"Cordelia, afternoon. Did you sleep..." he took in her pale face, her smudged makeup, and, oh yeah, the murderous expression on her face. "...well?"  
  
"Oh yes, I had the most fantastic sleep, so wonderful, in fact, that I slept all through something quite important, you know, that thing I told you about...the audition!! Hello, it was for the new face of Maybelline, and I could so have got it, but it's so hard to be punctual while sleeping." Angel inwardly groaned. He had known there was something he was something he was supposed to wake her for, but couldn't bring himself to disturb her when she looked so peaceful. She was gorgeous when she was asleep.   
  
"I'm sorry, I forgot, Cor. You and Wes both fell asleep while working last night, and I thought you'd both earned some uninterrupted rest. We've been up for days researching this case." He studied her expression carefully. For a minute, she looked as if she was about ready to use the holy water that he knew she kept in the cabinet next to her bed, just in case there was an unwelcome evil visitor in the shape of her best friend. Then her expression softened.  
  
"'S not like I'd have got it looking like this anyway. I'm a wreck." She looked so miserable, Angel had to say something. He just prayed he wouldn't say something wrong.  
  
"Cordelia, you always look lovely. I'm sure there'll be another opportunity like that one, or something better in the future..."  
  
"But Angel, I need it now. Have you any idea how much it costs to keep looking this good? Actually, now isn't a good time to draw attention to my appearance, but clothes, shoes, hair, make-up, manicures, yada yada yada... but like I said, that thing obviously wasn't meant to be." Angel was out of ideas. Flattery related to how good she looked would remind her of the commercial spot she wouldn't be on, and saying that there'll be another chance threw her into financial depression. Well, he had to try.  
  
Standing up, he looked down into her eyes. "You are one of the prettiest girls I know. And, although you don't really need all the make-up, and manicures, and other little things that you think make you look the way you do, I could always lend you some money every now and then..." Cordelia smiled.  
  
"Awww. You're such a sweet, adorable little vampire! But, as we both know, I'm not the only one with cash flow problems, so, unless you start robbing demon corpses, or I manage to will myself into seducing David Nabbit...and it's getting close, let me tell you... I think I may have to cut back. But, thank you for trying to make me feel better, and you're a bastard for letting me miss that audition. I'm not that mad, though, because I'd never have got it looking like this." He opened his mouth to argue, but she silenced him. "Oh, puh-lease, I'm a complete wreck. Don't even try to argue." She reached up, and planted a kiss on his cheek. "Now, not much of the conversation we just had made a lot of sense to me; I'm very very tired, but thank you for not making me feel any worse." With that, she turned around and breezed out of the room, shutting the door behind her. Angel stood still, trying to work out what the outcome of the conversation was, and whether or not she hated him. Also, his cheek was tingling from her kiss. He stood still for a couple more minutes, before deciding that sleep would probably clear his very confused head.  
  
* * *  
  
When she had left Angel's... cupboard, really, Cordy walked straight past Wesley as he was about to talk to her.  
  
"Wesley, really tired and emotionally drained now. I'm going to catch up on some sleep, seeing as we seem to be on vampire hours."  
  
"But, what about the researching? I think I've uncovered some quite remarkable..."  
  
"Save it. I'm half asleep, and there's no point. Wake me up when Angel wakes up, will you? And try to get some sleep yourself. You look dreadful." With that, she walked into her bedroom, carefully stepping over the scattered books and mugs, switched off the light and slammed the door.  
  
Wesley sank back into his chair, with the book on his lap. He would research, really. When he found that wiping his glasses repeatedly wasn't helping him focus, he shut the book. Well, maybe a few minutes rest wouldn't harm anyone...  
  
* * *  
  
Cordy blinked. Yawning, she slowly woke up, hearing a knocking on her door.   
  
"Cordy? Wesley said to wake you..." It was Angel. Rolling over, she peered at the clock. Six o'clock in the evening. She felt refreshed, and ready for another long night's work. Looking down at her rumpled skirt, she frowned.  
  
"I'm up... just let me change."  
  
A couple of minutes later, Cordy was sitting on the sofa again, with a huge book on her lap. She thought that it would probably make her sink right through the cushions after a while.  
  
"So, where are our other little helpers?" she asked, bored of reading grizzly tales of evisceration, possession and bizarre celebrity fashion statements. Oh wait, that was the magazine she had slipped in for when the research got really tedious.  
  
"Well, Kate is at a job interview...."  
  
"Lucky for some," Cordelia interjected, then realised her mistake as Angel looked as if he was about to launch into a speech about how guilty he felt, how awful it was, etc. "Continue."  
  
"Uh, Kate's at a job interview with another firm of private investigators, the more conventional kind, who apparently were trying to hire her even before she was fired from the force..."  
  
"Well, it's their slow, excruciatingly painful deaths..." Cordelia saw Wesley grinning out of the corner of her eye, and she could've sworn Angel had a twinkle in his eyes... see, that was how annoying Kate was. She'd even managed to irritate one of the most tolerant men on the planet. When he was mainly sane.  
  
"And Gunn is out of town dealing with his own demony crisis, but he insisted that he could handle it by himself."  
  
"Thanks a lot, Gunn! Leave us here with the musty old books." Everything went silent again.  
  
About a half hour later, Cordy thought she might pass out through boredom. Sometimes she didn't mind researching, but at the moment, she wished Wesley would just do it himself. He was the expert. It was what he was paid to do, for chrissakes! Angel could at least let her use the computer, but, no, apparently they both remembered there being something crucial in one of these books. Neither of them, however, had the neurons to put a post-it in. Just as she was about to flip over to her magazine, there was a slow knock at the door.  
  
They all looked up.   
  
"Are you.... expecting anyone, Cordelia?" Wesley asked.  
  
"No... either of you?" They shook their heads. As Cordy moved to get the door, Angel jumped up behind her, just in case it was something nasty.   
  
She reached the door, and made sure the chain was fixed in place. She couldn't see anyone through the peep-hole, then remembered that she'd had a little accident with that when touching up the paintwork. Gingerly, she pulled open the door a crack. Angel stood just behind her, tensed up.  
  
"Hello...? Is anyone there?" Listening carefully, she could have sworn she heard someone hiccup. She was just about close the door again, when a strange sounding voice called out:  
  
"Peaches? Are you...you there?" Cordelia tried to place the voice. No. No, it couldn't be. "Come say, h-hello to your, your favourite..." And there was silence. She turned round to look at Angel's face. His expression of horror and extreme aggravation only confirmed her worst suspicions. Without a word, she undid the chain, and swung open the door.   
  
And there, in a heap on her doorstep for all to see, clutching an empty bottle of Absolut, was a very drunk, very pathetic looking, and very blond vampire. Cordelia wondered if she was actually asleep, having a nightmare; was it too much to ask that she might wake up to find that she didn't have a drink-sodden Spike on her doorstep?  
  
To be continued...  
(if feedback is good, that is... and I promise, it will turn Cordy/Angel shippy...just give me time)  
  
  



	2. Apprehensions

Part 2 - "Apprehensions"  
  
- interesting to note, the word not only means 'anxiety', but 'understanding, realising'. Yes, I have been spending too much quality time with my thesaurus. I've been trying to expand my already too large vocab more for the upcoming English exams (I'm almost as bad as Giles for people not understanding me). And if anyone needs any Latin translated for a fic, I'm taking Latin too. Stupid stupid stupid. Bloody British examining boards. I'll stop ranting now.  
  
________________________________________________  
  
Cordelia kept staring, but he wouldn't disappear. Angel appeared to be trying the same technique, while Wesley was frantically to digging around the messy apartment for a crossbow. Eventually, she felt she'd have to say something.  
  
"Well, we can't just leave him there. It's cruel." Angel looked at her as if she'd lost her mind. "To me! Someone might see. Someone important. Why don't you take him and dump him in the nearest trash can, and he'll be so out of it when he wakes up he probably won't even remember..." Unfortunately, Angel didn't seem to like that idea.   
  
"No, he'll just go and hurt someone. Or come back more sober, and try to hurt you. We need to keep him somewhere where we can keep an eye on him before sending him back wherever he came from."  
  
Cordelia sighed. "Fine. Come in, Spike." She looked expectantly at Angel. "You can drag him in now, right?" Angel just stared at her as if she had just done something... incredibly stupid.  
  
"I actually meant that we could take him to the Hyperion and chain him up in the basement, where the decorators aren't going."  
  
"Oh. Oh no. Uhh, I uninvite you, Spike?" she said, hopefully. "Not gonna work, is it." Angel shook his head. "Oh well, the chains are in the bed room. What?" she asked, taking in Angel's shocked look. Getting it, she added: "Ew, no. No, really not into that. No, it's in case you decide to become Mr Killing Spree, again. You think I trust you that much?" Angel nodded his understanding, a little hurt. So it was true, but still. He supposed he deserved some apprehension from his friends after the last couple of months, and the tight-rope between good and evil he had been walking, but for some reason, having it come from Cordelia hurt. Although, she had always been brutally honest.  
  
Spike hadn't moved an inch during the entire exchange. Angel wondered why the hell he was here. He'd thought that Spike would be far, far away, probably in a foreign country, sulking over Dru. She'd obviously left him again. Drusilla wasn't really a long term girl, and, although Spike's end of the relationship had been for the long haul, Dru was continuously cheating, and using Spike as her backup, supporting guy. Spike was just a little too thick to notice, poor boy. Or too in love. That had always been a weakness of his. His capacity to love. Angel just wondered what had happened that he was drunk on Cordelia's doorstep, of all people. Maybe it was about Drusilla. But why come here? And how did he know where Cordy lived? Last time Spike had been shoving hot pokers through Angel's side, Cor hadn't found her new apartment yet. It was strange, but when Angel had gone to Sunnydale that Thanksgiving last year, he could have sworn that he had briefly seen Spike, in Giles' house. Angel had thought he was hallucinating, out of guilt. For some reason, the pain always got worse around Thanksgiving, and he had been so distracted by his constant staring at Buffy, he hadn't given his apparent sighting of Spike a second thought.  
  
"Wesley, give me a hand." Wesley jumped out from where he had been hiding, and started protesting quite heartily.  
  
"Angel, you surely cannot be thinking of allowing that... well, letting him into Cordelia's house? I never had the displeasure of coming face to face with William the Bloody, but I'll have you know that he is thought to be one of the most dangerous vampires of all time. I simply cannot allow you to endanger us all..." Wesley stopped as he thought through what had just happened... " but really, we'd be in more danger if we didn't chain him up here, as he has an open invitation, and this is not good." Angel looked at Wesley, as if to say 'are you quite finished?'. "Right."  
  
Angel and Wesley both grabbed one of Spike's arms, and dragged him in, with Cordelia following them, carrying the empty liquor bottles that had been cluttering up the hallways. "Ugh, guys, could you please not make a mess of my nice clean carpet? And I do not want to know what was in some of these bottles. How much is it possible for one person to drink? My apartment is going to reek of alcohol for days." She looked with distaste at the bottles, and threw them in the nearest bin. Going to the cupboard in her room, she reached for the manacles and chains. She pulled all the covers off her bed, and Angel proceeded to chain Spike to it.   
  
A good ten minutes later, after making sure that there was no way that anyone could ever escape the chains, they stood back to survey their handiwork. Cordelia didn't know why, but she almost felt sorry for the blond vampire. Something pretty horrible must have happened to him for him to have gotten in this state, and resorted to tracking Angel down in what was obviously a cry for help. At a guess, it was love-related. She remembered seeing Spike like this once before, and it was about love then.  
  
Closing all the blinds, Angel sat down in the chair by the bed. "I'll stay here and watch him." Cordy nodded.  
  
"Angel? I'll... I'll be in the next room. If you need me to watch him for a bit, just call. Or, if you get bored, and you want someone to talk to..." he smiled at her. Smiling back, for some reason feeling all warm inside, she nodded, and quietly left the room and closed the door behind her. She wasn't sure why, because it was highly unlikely that Spike would be woken by anything. He hadn't even moved as they had fairly roughly tied him to the bed. If she hadn't known better, she would have thought the alcohol had killed him. He'd certainly had enough.  
  
The apartment was very quiet. Almost too quiet. Wesley had fled to his apartment, saying that he wanted nothing to do with the 'monster we seem to be looking after.' She was glad he had gone. There was only so much research a girl could take, and Spike's little interruption was a slight relief. She curled back up on the sofa, with one of her magazines, and found herself thinking about Angel again. She'd been doing that a lot lately. She would be doing something completely unrelated to him, like reading, or cooking, and suddenly she would be thinking about how glad she was to have him back. She had missed him over the past months. It had been horrible going to work, and not hearing him complain about her filing system, or her coffee, or asking more personal questions that obviously made him a bit uncomfortable, like who she was dating, how the acting career was going. He wasn't a very casual guy, and he obviously had to make an effort to make small talk sometimes, but she thought it was sweet. What had been even worse was not having him smile at her. He didn't smile a lot, but when he did, he looked absolutely gorgeous, and she went all gooey inside. Well, he always looked gorgeous, and she more or less always felt butterflies when she was around him...   
  
Oh god, she'd developed a crush! On her boss! Okay, breathe Cordy, breathe. She couldn't believe she hadn't worked out what it was. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Well, there was no way he felt the same. No. And it would pass. Definitely. She'd just have to try to behave normally around him. Although, it wasn't a sudden thing. She'd thought he was very handsome from the first time she met him, back in Sunnydale, and tried to steal him from Buffy. Then he had gone all evil, and it had put her off a bit. Only a crush, only a crush, it'll pass, she repeated to herself. She just prayed that no-one else would notice.  
  
* * *  
  
Angel had decided that volunteering to babysit unconscious Spike had definitely not been a good idea. It gave him too much time to sit and think. Not that he didn't do that all the time anyway, but being in Cordelia's bedroom sent all his thoughts in one particular direction. The fact that maybe, there was a slight chance, that perhaps he had a small fixation on his secretary. Ever since she had kissed him the previous night - on the cheek, but still - he had been trying to place the tingly feelings in the pit of his stomach. He had since realised that he might just have a slight crush on Cordelia. If a slight crush meant that every time he saw her, he had to think of some of the really nasty things he had done as Angelus to stop himself from grabbing her, telling her how he felt, and kissing her senseless. He knew that she didn't feel anything similar for him, that she would probably laugh, then become really uncomfortable around her crazy, crazy boss, but he could only resist the urges for so long.  
  
He had no idea why he had suddenly developed a crush on her. The best explanation was that it wasn't sudden at all. If he really admitted to it, he had felt at least a little something for her for a long while now. That also explained the insane jealousy and protectiveness towards her whenever she spent time in the company of other men. She had often been angry with him for scaring off her potential dates with the third degree, and Wesley was constantly reminding him that 'nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition', but he couldn't help it. He didn't think that any of them were good enough for her. Unfortunately, he didn't have the courage to let her know how he felt, just to see how she might react. He just didn't want to ruin their friendship.  
  
Looking at the clock, he realised that it was getting close to sunrise. He had better get himself some blood before the sunlight flooded her apartment. Spike was still in an alcohol sodden dream world.  
  
Walking into the living room, Angel could see her curled up on the sofa. He couldn't stop himself from walking over to get a better look. She was only wearing a pair of silk boxers, and a spaghetti-strap top. He couldn't help being fascinated. Kneeling down next to her, he carefully studied her face, trying not to let his gaze shift to her chest area. She was moving a little, and her eyes were flickering back and forth under her lids. She moaned. "Mmm. Ohhh, oh, that's nice." A very good dream. Angel just wanted to know who she was dreaming about so he could kill them. "Oh, yes, Angel..." Angel fell backwards with shock, knocking over the coffee table rather noisily. She opened her eyes, somewhat muddled by her dream. "Angel? We, we were just..." then she fully woke up. She turned bright red, and Angel jumped to his feet, pretending that he knew nothing. "Angel. Hi. Uh, I was... I was sleeping."  
  
"Yeah, uh, I'm sorry, I... I needed to get some blood, and I tripped over the corner of the table, and knocked everything over..." Cordelia decided it was best not to question him, especially as she was having trouble distinguishing reality from a very, very nice dream. Although, if that had really happened, she would have to be chaining him up to the bed now, and searching for an Orb of Thessulah.   
  
"Oh. Right. Did, uh, did our little drunken friend wake up with the world's worst hangover yet?"  
  
"No, no, he's still very much asleep. Could you, uh, watch him for a bit, while I get something to eat?" Cordelia smiled. She could have some fun with this.   
  
"Sure! Take your time." She jumped up, and almost skipped towards the bedroom with an evil look in her eyes. And Angel most certainly did NOT ogle her in her flushed, underclothed, slightly sleep-hazed state. Really.  
  
Cordelia closed the bedroom door quietly behind her. Grinning, she crept up to the vampire on the bed. She just could not resist messing with him, especially as in this state he was definitely not able to hurt her. Also, it might help her forget about her dream, so she wouldn't do something stupid around Angel.  
  
She leaned down just next to his ear. Everything was silent, and he was obviously just asleep at this point. Taking a deep breath, she yelled:  
  
"Morning!!"  
  
"Fucking hell!" Spike shouted. Grimacing at the pain radiating from every part of his body, his head even worse, he looked down at the chains, obviously a little disoriented and confused. "What happened?" he asked groggily, as he slowly recognised Cordelia. What the hell was he doing here?  
  
"Well, you turned up on my doorstep, talked complete crap, got a bit amorous, I tried to seduce you and then... you lost consciousness." Cordelia quietly smiled at her embellishments, as she watched him try to sort through the blurry memories.  
  
"Did I?" He asked apprehensively.  
  
"Yeah! Took all my clothes off, dancing about, got out the baby oil, but it was no good." Spike groaned. Not that he didn't fancy her, but he didn't really want her like that. It would mean facing the wrath of the poof.  
  
"You didn't, did you?" That didn't mean that he wouldn't have minded seeing it.  
  
"Nope," she grinned, "but it wouldn't have made any difference if I had."  
  
"You should have tried." She hit him over the head. "Ow! What was that for? And why the bloody hell have you got me all trussed up like this?"  
  
"Uh, duh Spike! I didn't exactly feel like becoming a midnight snack for a hungover vampire."  
  
"They didn't phone you and gloat?" She frowned. "Ask Willow. She'll tell you. Y'see, last year these lovely little soldier boys came prancing into my life and put this wonderful piece of scrap metal in my head. I can't bite anything. I can't even hurt anyone. Anyone human, that is."  
  
"Why should I believe you?" Angel had been at the door, sniggering at Spike since he'd heard the yelling. He had felt more than a little jealous when Cordelia seemed to be coming on to Spike, but then realised that she was just fooling about with him.  
  
"Angel. Didn't think you'd see me again for a while, did you? Did little miss Bitchy not tell you? I'm a neutered vamp now. Slayer's little lap dog. Although, she doesn't seem to tell you a lot about what goes on in good old Sunnyhell any more. You're not missin' out on much. I hate that girl. I wish she'd just hurry up and stake me in the heart. Save me some agony. Although, someone else could do it for me, not give that little cow the satisfaction."   
  
"So, let me get this straight. You're here, because you want us to kill you." Angel wasn't really paying much attention to Spike's hungover ranting, but he did find it strange that the insults and references to Buffy didn't really make him feel anything much any more. He had a new life here, she had hers. Maybe he'd finally moved on. Funny how little the Slayer's name came up any more. He certainly hadn't bothered checking up on her by phoning Giles recently, which explained why he seemed to be so out of the loop when it came to Spike. Perhaps Spike was telling the truth. Why else would he come here?  
  
"Dead straight. Be a love, make it quick." Spike looked hopefully at Angel, then at Cordelia. Neither of them came forward, however tempted Angel was. Cordelia moved towards the door.  
  
"It's, what, 6 am? I'm sure Willow won't mind. I'll just check." Angel followed her out, while shooting a warning glance at Spike.  
  
"What? 's not like I could try anything, even if I wanted to." To illustrate his point, he rattled the chains. Angel went to get his blood out of the microwave. "And, mate, if you're not going to do me the service of offing me, any chance I could get any of that..." Angel slammed the door on Spike's moaning, while Cordelia went to get the phone. That irritating bleached dimwit had the worst timing ever.   
  
  
To be continued...  



	3. Explanations

Part 3  
  
"Explanations"  
  
This picks up, yet again, where the last one left off.  
  
Feedback is very very good. Please? It's been lacking, and I love it so.  
  
kaffeineaddict@hotmail.com  
  
Now if I could only work out where this is going...  
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"H..hullo?" a tired voice said.  
  
"Willow! Hi! It's Cordelia. I didn't wake you up, did I?"  
  
"Well, actually..."  
  
"Oh well, never mind! Anyway, we have a little query relating to a problem we seem to have been fed-exed straight from Sunnydale. And, by the way, not appreciating it!"  
  
"I don't... what problem?"   
  
"Oh, I don't know, it has a drinking problem, British, attitude problem, awful dye-job, quite old, currently chained to my bed. And not in a kinky way."  
  
"Oh. Well, it's either gotta be Ginger Spice, pre-UN makeover, or... Spike?"  
  
"Bingo! So, Spike's in a post-alcohol induced haze, but he's assuring is that he's non-fatal. Is he just trying to suck my blood, or has he got over his pathological lying tendency?"  
  
"Spike's been... well, impotent, for like years now. He's like a puppy. An angry puppy, with fangs. And I should know, he tried to bite me. Buffy didn't tell you?"  
  
"Well, you know me and Buff, not exactly the tightest of amigos. Same with her and Angel, and even Wesley. Did you even know Wesley was here? And Faith's in jail. Anyway, gotta go! Make sure you let little miss Buff know to let us in on important details next time, like, you know, an apocalypse or something." Taking a deep breath, Cordelia groaned. "Willow, I'm sorry, I'm being a bitch. It's been a long... couple of days, and I'm taking it out on you."  
  
"Uh, that's..." Willow was thrown by the apology. Who are you and what have you done with Cordelia? "That's okay, Cordy... I think... I think I need to sleep now. What is the time?"  
  
"Oh, about 5:30. We don't sleep here. Bye Will."  
  
The other end of the line had already gone dead. Willow would now, no doubt, go and tell all her friends how nasty Queen C was being, and how sad little Spike had run off to LA to the losers there. Okay, maybe not in those words; Cordelia was tired and angry with being left out of the loop yet again. She even felt a bit sorry for Spike. She had no idea what it was that had made him find her address, get drunk, and turn up looking for Angel, but it must have been bad. She was sure she detected something in Willow's voice, maybe resentment, but pity.   
  
Cordelia walked back into the living room, where Angel was hanging blankets over the windows.  
  
"I figured that since we seem to be back on daylight hours, I probably wouldn't be of much use sitting in that little room." She nodded, looking distracted. "What is it, Cor?"  
  
"Hmm? Oh, I was just thinking... Willow said that Spike's safe. As in, non-vampire safe. Can't bite or kill. I was just wondering what could have happened that would make him crawl here, of all places. And, no offence, Angel, but there are perfectly just reasons why you aren't Spike's favourite person." Angel shrugged and nodded. "You gave him huge inferiority complexes over hundreds of years, then abandoned him, he was doing a pretty good job ruling over Sunnydale - I should know, I was locked in a cupboard because of it - then you return, steal his girlfriend, force him to ally himself with the one person he really hates. And suddenly, he's here, asking for help? I don't know about you, but I'm at a loss." She was right. Unfortunately, she also dredged up a lot of things Angel wouldn't mind forgetting about, but it was all true. Why the hell had Spike come to them for help?   
  
"Mate, I know I asked you to kill me," a strident voice interrupted his train of thought, "but I didn't really want to be starved to death. Staking's much more... I would say humane, but..."  
  
"I'll give him something. It might shut him up." Cordelia was getting annoyed. She had a dead, and also smelly, thing tied to her nice bed. "Can I unchain him? If he promises not to create mayhem or chaos of ANY description?" Angel looked a bit apprehensive, then nodded.   
  
Cordelia poured some blood into a mug, shoved it in the microwave, pulled it out when it started to bubble, took a deep, cleansing breath, and headed for the bedroom. Spike had managed to wriggle into a semi-sitting position, and was leering at her. She glared at him.  
  
"Here. I thought this might make you shut up." She put the blood on the bedside table. "Now, I'm going to unchain you, if you promise to obey the basic house rules." Spike stared at her, looking bored. "One - no suicide attempts. I like my apartment how it is - without any messy vampire dust. Two - you will cause havoc of no kind. That includes trying to annoy any one of us into staking you, attacking Angel, or rifling through my underwear drawer." Spike's face fell. Damnit, the girl was good. "Three - no alcohol. And you will also shower to get rid of the smell, and let me take you shopping to get new clothes. Because, ew, and, what decade are we in? The 1980s? And, fourth and final, if you intend to hang around here for any length of time, you will make yourself useful. That includes research." Spike raised an eyebrow. She really did have everything thought out. "Oh, and one last thing - this is obligatory. You will join me in making fun of anything stupid that Wesley may say, and will also help make Kate's life hell."  
  
"Who the bloody hell is Kate?"  
  
"You haven't had the displeasure of meeting her yet. So, can I unchain you?" Spike looked at her, miming a pensive face.  
  
"Well, I don't know... are you sure about the part with the underwear drawer?"  
  
"And wardrobe in general."  
  
"Fine. Fine, I'll be your majesty's loyal retriever. D'you have Angel this well trained as well?"  
  
"Well, I try." She smiled at him. He wasn't her favourite vampire, but she could probably get used to him as long as he didn't try anything too despicable. She reached for the keys to the padlocks. "Oh, and you're going to have to tell me everything about what's going on in Sunnydale, and what made you come sobbing back to Angel. Because I have no idea." Spike looked at her, puzzled by her chattiness, and lack of... hostility towards him.  
  
"Love, why're you bein' so nice to me? 's not like you've got any reason to. And please don't tell me you feel sorry for me, does nothing for my manliness." Cordelia honestly wasn't sure. Maybe it was because she could relate to his situation. Social outcast, lonely and miserable. Then again, he probably deserved everything he got. After all, hello, sociopath with homicidal tendencies when unchipped. As the last chain rattled to the floor, she said:  
  
"I don't know. Maybe because you might liven things up around here."  
  
Spike looked her up and down, causing her to raise an eyebrow and reach for a bathrobe. "Count on it, love. Count on it." Swinging his legs off the bed, he reached for the blood and took long gulps. He noticed that she didn't exactly look repulsed. She actually looked more irritated by the time he was taking. As soon as he'd finished, she grabbed the mug and led him out into the hall. "Sorry, all the swallowing got in the way. So, what's happened since last time I was here. Wait, I forgot, I don't care. Let me rephrase - what has my good friend the wanker done that I could make fun of him about in a hundred years or so?"  
  
Cordy slammed the mug into the sink, bristling with anger. "My terms and conditions? Verbally attacking Angel - pretty much the same as physical." She wasn't sure what was causing her to be so overly protective of her boss, but she didn't want to let Spike have the satisfaction of driving her to staking him. Spike was just staring at her, looking vaguely amused.  
  
"Sorry, ducky, didn't know it was like that between you." Spike inwardly grinned. Christ, he loved to stir it.  
  
"Like that?! Like what? Believe me, there is nothing going on between me and Angel." She forced a laugh. I mean, there would be if that idiot knew how to read the signals she'd been giving off - giggling at his lame jokes, wandering about the apartment in her pyjamas, constantly leaning over when talking to him, exposing her cleavage. If it had been anyone else, she'd have written him off as gay already. It was just frustrating that she had to put it down to him not reciprocating the feelings she had. Spike, as if he'd picked up some of Dru's psychic abilities, decided to add:  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, darlin'. Should've known. You're really not his type. Probably doesn't even fancy you." Spike knew he was outright lying at this point - Cordy couldn't be any more Angel's type - gorgeous, assertive, independent, nice rack - but it was fun. She looked about to snap.   
  
Instead of rising to the baiting, Cordy just grabbed his arm and frog-marched him into the living room. "Angel! Someone wants to talk to you! About emotions, and brooding, and.... and how it doesn't make you a woman if you cry! He's also very interested in the newest styling products, so..." Spike yelped, and pulled away.  
  
"I take it back! Torture me, buy me new clothes, take me to see a horrible chick flick, just please, not the hair care talk, I beg of you!" Cordelia was having trouble keeping a straight face, and Spike smirked triumphantly. He'd won. He wasn't sure what he'd won, but he'd won. Unfortunately for him, Angel didn't seem to be in the mood for laughter today.  
  
"Hello, William." Oh God, here it comes. "How are you?"  
  
"Well, let's think. No-one even would get near enough to me in Sunnydale to stake me, I came here, your secretary is unbearable-" he grinned at Cordy, who glared at him, then started laughing again, "- and you're about to give me the 'I'm so glad you can't bite, now you can be Robin to my Batman, and we can have many a gay romp around my city' talk. Gay in the traditional sense of the word, mind you, cos I don't really fancy you when you're all soulful. Oh, and spare me the pity, because you're going to hate me again as soon as I tell you why I'm here."  
  
"Now, Spike, that's not true," Angel said sternly, "we never stopped hating you. I'm still not too thrilled that you're not chained to a bed." Spike stared at him, horrified.  
  
"A sense of humour. The most boring wanker on this side of the underworld has gone and grown a sense of humour, just when I need him serious. Love, have you been putting something in his blood?" Angel smiled.  
  
"She's a good influence." Cordy was melting under his gaze again, and grinned dizzily. Spike looked between the two of them, and rolled his eyes.  
  
"Oh please, spare me the lovey-duvvy stuff. I don't know how long I'll last with you two eyeing each other up with poor lovelorn Spike stuck in the middle." Both Angel and Cordy opened their mouths to deny everything, so Spike quickly kept going. "Yep, and denial isn't just a river in Egypt. Geddit? Anyway, children, Spikey has a lovely little story to tell you. Hope no-one's too sensitive, it's got strong language, and, if I tell the ending the way I'd like, extremely graphic... violence." Spike sighed. "Don't worry Peaches, nothing that will make you want to do anything other than stake me then run off to Sunnydale. Right, well, it started, as many things do, with a dream..." Luckily, Spike was getting too involved in the misery of his story to notice that, at that comment, Cordy blushed bright pink, and Angel averted his gaze.  
  
* * *  
  
"My God, poor Spike!" Cordelia explained, and Spike melodramatically nodded. "So, you told her you loved her, tried to prove it by killing the other love of your life, and she told you that you were beneath her? Again?!"  
  
Spike launched into his Buffy impersonation again, a high, whiny falsetto. "'But Spike, I could never love a monster like you. You're disgusting, and beneath me, and the only chance you ever had with me was when I was unconscious.' And bear in mind, that last part was after I had poured my guts out to her." He lit a cigarette. "Then Harmony waltzed in, and proceeded to make me look like a right prick by managing to beat me up. Although, I did have an arrow sticking out my back."  
  
"Buffy... she said those things?" Angel couldn't believe it. Even for Buffy, it was... cruel.  
  
"Yep, every word, and more, at one time or another. Worthless bitch." Normally, Angel would kill anyone who spoke of Buffy in that way, but he thought that maybe Spike was entitled to it. It had taken him a good couple of hours to tell his story, with Cordy interjecting at intervals to voice her opinion of Buffy. The thing that surprised Angel was how much he wasn't upset by it. It just confirmed that the thing with Buffy was way in the past. Sure, a part of him would still love her, but another part of him also loved 'psycho bitch Darla', as Cor was so fond of calling her. Cordelia. Now, he felt all the feelings rush to the surface.   
  
"Geez, Spike, can I kill her for you? I mean, I know I don't know you that well, but, apart from the violent vampiric side to you, you're not such a bad guy." Spike raised an eyebrow. "And if you ever get that chip out of your head, I will kill you dead."  
  
"She has the same policy on my soul."  
  
"What can I say. I like my friends to be fang-free. And before you get any ideas, Spike, we are by no means bestest buds, and you're gonna have to make yourself useful before I count you as a friend. But I'm really not scared of you." Spike looked crushed, and gave her a hurt look from where he was sprawled across her couch, chain smoking. "Oh, please, you are so transparent. And I'm hungry." She got up from her chair. "Angel? Where are those earrings that I left on the table? Y'know, before you threw it across the room."  
  
Angel fished around in his pocket, then handed them over to her. "Here, thought I'd better look after them."  
  
"Hmmm. I still find it a little wacky that you managed to tip over the coffee table on your way to get blood. Especially since you walk through the kitchen to get to the living room. Never mind." She walked back into the kitchen, and Angel pointedly did not look at her retreating back. Spike made no secret of ogling her, getting a growl out of Angel.  
  
"Yeah, no feelings there. Peaches, you're going to have to tell me that story again. Because I don't understand. You know, the part about her being asleep, and you NOT watching her. I think you might be lying." Angel stood up, and marched to his little room. Before slamming the door, he yelled out:  
  
"You're lucky that Cordelia is so sentimental and nice. Because I would have tossed you out on your ass into the nearest patch of sunlight quite happily." With that, he closed the door, intent on finishing Goethe's Faust for the hundredth time.  
  
Spike was left grinning to himself on the sofa. He was definitely going to have fun with those two walking hormones. Now, if only the watcher would come home... He lit up another Marlboro, allowing himself to laugh evilly.   
  
"Spike? That's getting annoying. And talking to yourself is a sign of madness." Bloody hell, he must be losing it. He was actually liking their company. Plotting and scheming, he quietly smoked the cigarette. He liked the girl, really, and some carefully planned comments casually thrown at Angel could help her out. Maybe, since he'd been so unlucky in love, he could help those two find happiness. Not perfect happiness, obviously, because he really hated that raving poofter Angelus. But still. He told himself that it wasn't because he liked them, he wasn't being nice. He was just bored. And interfering was what he did best. He let off another cackle of manic laughter.  
  
"Spike, do I need to get Angel back in there? Because that's still annoying."  
  
Bloody women. Now, where did she hide the vodka?   
  
To be continued... 


	4. Slime, Water and General Confusion

Part 4  
  
"Slime, Water and General Confusion"  
______________________________________________________________  
  
"Well, that was fun!" Spike bounced through the front door, followed by a very tired and irritated looking Angel. Both men were absolutely, covered, from head to toe, with slime and entrails. In fact, there was actually something slithering down Spike's coat to the floor, leaving a silver trail running down the leather. He stepped on it, just to check it was dead, and there was a horrible crunching sound. Cordelia just knew that the stuff would seep down between the tiles of the entrance hall, leaving a foul smell for her to remember it by.   
  
"Spike. I have never seen anything so disgusting in my life. You are aware that it is possible to kill things quickly, which generally means less dry cleaning required?"  
  
"Well, yeah. But how enjoyable would that be?" Angel walked past Spike, and turned to Cordelia, who was looking horrified at the amount of muck that was being traipsed through her apartment. Angel was being careful, but Spike really didn't seem to care.   
  
"My boy here likes to play with his victims. He decided to get his violence fix by beating the Elfrach demon to a pulp, before managing to set fire to it with his lighter. And a tank of lighter fluid. Where did you get that from again?" Spike looked sheepish, then got defensive.  
  
"How the hell was I supposed to know that decapitation kills an Elfrach? Fire makes them implode," he added as an aside. Cordelia nodded.  
  
"So THAT's why you guys look like you're auditioning for parts as extras in a B rate horror movie. What is it, 'Mutant Slime: When Gunge Fights Back'?" She rolled her eyes when Angel looked confused at any kind of pop culture allusion, while Spike tried to start to comment. "Whatever. At this point, all I'm aware of is the fact that I'm going to have to start telling people that my carpet is supposed to be avocado green."  
  
Angel looked at her apologetically, in a way that just made her want to throw herself at him, and gave her that funny, tingly feeling. She could almost kill him for looking at her that way - it almost made her forget what she was supposed to be angry about. "Cordy, I'm sorry. I'll pay for the carpet to be replaced..."  
  
"No, no... really, it's all right. A few rugs, no-one'll ever know! It'll look very exotic."  
  
"If you're sure..." she nodded. "Right, well... I'd better shower." He wandered off towards the bathroom, leaving Cordy staring after him.  
  
"Why don't you offer to give him a hand, love? I'm sure he wouldn't mind a back rub." Spike grinned suggestively, raising an eyebrow. She threw a nearby book at him - it was The Complete Guide to Modern Demonology, so it knocked him for six.   
  
"Bloody hell, that hurt!" He yelled at her, vamping out.  
  
"Ooh, I'm so scared, Spike. Whatcha gonna do, gum me to death?" His human visage back in place, he sat at the table, attempting his best Angel expression. "Aw, did I kick the poor little puppy. Anyway, I just have to get my nail varnish out of the bathroom." Spike gave her a strange look, but decided not to comment, or stop her. She marched off towards the bathroom, swung open the door...   
  
Bright red, she slammed the door closed again, although she did it as quietly as possible, and walked back to the table. It took all of Spike's self control not to fall off his chair laughing.  
  
"Um, I..." she banged her head repeatedly on the table, while Spike collapsed in fits of laughter at her expression. "You bastard. You couldn't have said, y'know, something?!"  
  
"Got a short term memory, haven't we pet? Forget the git was in there, did you? Tell me, what did you see? I think he's got out of shape since last time I saw..." she was aware that Spike was still talking; she kept hearing parts of various obscene stories that he launched into. They were probably quite interesting, but she was having trouble focusing on anything other than the image burned into the back of her retina. For there in the shower, with his back to her, had been a very naked, very wet Angel. He was well muscled, and had the nicest... just thinking about it made her go weak at the knees. She hoped Spike couldn't tell how turned on she had been by the incident, but she just knew that he could, and it would give him further material to tease her over. Thank God Angel hadn't seen her. She would never be able to live it down. She was sure that he would have been angry and embarrassed; she just knew that he didn't feel the same as she did. For the hundredth time, she told herself to get over this stupid crush. Unfortunately, she wasn't sure that it wasn't turning into something more... She came to the conclusion that it would be a better idea to listen to Spike. It might take her mind off naked Angel.  
  
"So there's Angelus, stark bollock naked, and I don't really need to describe much to you, but we both know that..." Cordelia started screaming inside her head. No, wait, that wasn't just her trying to block out Spike's story, it was... "Love? Pet, you alright?"   
  
Spike was starting to get worried. When she started screaming, and holding onto her head, he jumped up, and supported her so that she didn't fall backwards off the stool. Cordelia's vision was the usual confusing yet painful picture show - blurry image after blurry image, until....  
  
"Ugh! Aspirin... Dennis?" Dennis? Who was... Spike stared in amazement as a bottle of aspirin and a pad flew across the room. Without looking up, Cordelia added "My ghost. Spike, make yourself useful. Get me some water." By this point, Angel, having heard the screaming, had wrapped himself in a robe, and was standing next to her, still... dripping wet... Without looking at him, she said "Um, that Elfrach demon... well, it's really not dead. Looks like decapitation really is the only way to kill it. It's wreaking havoc at this address."   
  
"Are you sure you're alright?" She made the mistake of looking up into his caring gaze, and blushing, nodded. Angel noted her glazed expression, but continued to stare into her eyes. This confirmed what the rush of cold air he had felt was while he was showering. He had known it was her anyway, but this proved that she was as affected as he was. He had turned the shower as cold as it would go when she had left. As it was, he had been on the verge of turning round and pulling her into the shower with him... he started to lower his head, and her eyes fluttered closed... their lips were just about to touch, when...  
  
"So, we find it, start a-chopping, lots o' violence, buckets o' fun, more slime, thing dies?" Spike smirked evilly as he saw their eyes snap open in shock. They suddenly jumped away from each other, as if each one thought the other had an infectious disease. Sure, he'd said that he was going to help them, but at this point, the frustration was much, much funnier.  
  
Angel cleared his throat. Cordelia was gazing avidly into the bottom of the glass of water, at the fizzing tablet. She found those easier to take after visions, he observed fondly. He always noticed little things like that. He also knew that she always felt dirty after receiving visions - probably because of all the slimy evil in the pictures - and showered afterwards. That did NOT mean that he was going to hang around and walk in on her in the shower. No. Although, it was tempting. Very tempting.  
  
"Yeah, uh, Spike, this time you let me do the killing. You can watch my back." He started marching purposefully towards the door.  
  
"Uh... mate?" Spike looked pointedly at him. "Unless this demon lives in some kind of spa, you might want to rethink the look." Angel looked down. Looking back up, he shot an embarrassed and pissed off look at Spike, and glanced at a smiling Cordelia, then walked back towards his room. Spike shrugged. "A bloke's got to be helpful. Although, it would have been funnier if I'd let him go like that. Bugger, why didn't I? Right proper Kodak moment, that would have been."  
  
Cordelia giggled. She's just been accosted with the image Angel fighting the big evil dressed like that. After all, it wasn't entirely her fault that he'd been in such a rush that, instead of putting on his own bath robe (although, that still could be embarrassing - fighting demons in a dressing gown), he'd picked up her frilly, pink, silk Calvin Klein. Angel re-emerged from his room, wearing his usual black-on-black ensemble.   
  
"Right. Let's go." He hurried past Cordy, who was trying to stifle her laughter. Spike followed him, grinning openly.  
  
"Poofter."  
  
"Oh, shut up."  
  
* * *  
  
  
"And more... much more than this... I did it my wayyy!"  
  
Cordelia winced. She'd finally got sick of allowing Spike to lounge around on her sofa in his smelly, dirty state. After he and Angel had returned from fighting that gross demon, she told him that enough was enough, and he would have to get clean. So, she did what any other normal person would do under the circumstances; she grabbed him by the ear, and, twisting it, she had thrown him, fully clothed, into a running shower. After many filthy comments from Spike about how showers obviously really did for her, he had jumped out, pushed her under the spray, and trailed water all around her apartment. He'd finally come to the conclusion that locked in the bathroom, away from the wrath of a now soaking wet Cordelia, was a safer place to be. He hadn't stopped singing since.  
  
She turned the page of her magazine, stopping to pick at the chipped varnish on her nail. Spike had only been living with her for a nearly a week, if you didn't count the unconsciousness, but she was already on the verge of killing him. Deep within her mind, a little voice reminded her that she would probably actually miss him, but she chose to ignore it. Sure, he was a good person to talk to, he had interesting stories to tell, and he could hold his own in a sarcasm match. She needed someone like that occasionally. God knew there were normally very few people around for her to talk to. She couldn't talk to Wesley, because he... well, he'd disappeared, for the minute. They knew he was alright, because he kept phoning with obscure references to different texts that he thought they could take a look at, but he was embroiled in his own personal research; she hated to think what that could be. Gunn was fun to have around, but you couldn't have a serious conversation with him. Kate was just a miserable, whiny little person who Cordelia had never liked, and Angel... she couldn't look him straight in the face any more.   
  
She kept having these really explicit dreams about him, doing things that she knew they never could. After the thing with the shower, it was even worse than ever, since she didn't have to imagine him naked any more. Nope, she just had to shut her eyes, and the real thing was etched onto her eyelids. The reality was even better than her dreams. Also, he seemed to have been avoiding her recently. She didn't know why - maybe he'd worked out that she wanted him, and was repulsed, or embarrassed - but it made her really depressed. That was another thing that she liked about Spike - he didn't allow depression. In other people, anyway. In his book, it was one of the deadly sins. And since he had no morals, there were very few sins that you could commit in his eyes, but that was one. The others were having low alcohol and nicotine levels in your blood. Liking anyone in Sunnydale was frowned upon as well. He had decided that he wasn't going back there, and as soon as Angel had the hotel back, all nicely decorated, he was moving in. Angel pretended to be horrified (although, maybe it wasn't completely pretense), but secretly he was glad he wouldn't be totally alone there all the time any more. His loneliness was part of what had caused the Darla debacle. If he'd allowed himself to get closer to Cordy and Wesley, and told them about her immediately, it might never have happened. As Spike had never really liked Darla (she'd thought he was an idiot; an assumption sometimes Angel thought wasn't all wrong), he had sworn that if she came crawling back , he would stake her without letting Angel know she had even been there. Spike had heard the full story from both of them, and hated Darla even more because of it. He got on really well with Cordy, and hated that anyone would hurt his new-found friend that much.  
  
Cordy looked up from her magazine as there was a huge crash from the door hitting the wall, and a waft of warm, soapy air coming down the corridor.  
  
"That was refreshing. But, pet, I think you should talk to the manager. I wasn't in there very long, and the water started running cold." Cordelia fixed him with an icy gaze as he stood there, in a fluffy robe she had made him borrow from Angel (which also resulted in comments about 'the magnificent wanker's cross-dressing tendencies' - Spike was apparently worried it was contagious), rubbing at his peroxided locks with her softest, nicest towel. Her eyes narrowed as she caught a whiff of what she was sure was that expensive soap she only kept for really special occasions.  
  
"You were in there for three quarters of an hour. It is not possible to buy a hot water tank that would last that long!" He arched an eyebrow at her, and kept studying his finger nails.  
  
"Eh. Well, I've showered for longer than that, and still had enough water by the end. Faulty boiler, must be. Got any black varnish?"   
  
"What? Oh..." she realised that he meant for his nails, "no. You've mooched off of me enough, you are definitely not using my nail varnish as well. And, by the way, black varnish on men is so last decade. And while we're on the subject of your horrible, horrible fashion sense, you need a new look."  
  
"But, love... wait a mo, can we use Angel's credit cards?" He had a mischievous look on his face.  
  
Cordy sighed. "I would say absolutely, but since my last excursion, he keeps them on him at all times." She had gone just a little crazy with his cards in a Grachiavogel boutique. The look on his face had been priceless when he got the statements (she had claimed that the clothes came under 'necessary and unavoidable expenses', to which he replied "because you'll be wearing a backless ball gown around the office." Well, maybe not.), but he practically had padlocks on his wallet now.   
  
Spike started to smile. He walked back into the bathroom, where he had left his clothes. A couple of minutes later, he walked back, fully dressed, reaching into the pockets of the trenchcoat. Triumphantly, he held up his hand. Fanned out in his grasp, as a poker player would fan out his playing cards, Spike had...  
  
"Oh my God, I think that's every card that Angel owns! How did you..."  
  
"Living in London as long as we did, you pick up a few things from the pick-pockets. Including their wallets, if you were as good as I was." Cordy looked a little sceptical. "Well, I was." She still looked cynical. Spike sighed an unnecessary sigh. "Also, the huge wanker left his coat lying around. Kind of takes the danger out, but still...." he waved the cards at her.  
  
"Ooh, I don't know..." she couldn't, she couldn't, she wouldn't... "oh, come on, let's go! But when he finds out, it's all you." She ran by the kitchen table, grabbing his keys. "Sure he won't mind me borrowing the car." Thank God for late night shopping, thought Spike, or she'd probably have dragged me into the sunlight in her excitement. They were also both wondering (and in Spike's case, not caring) where Angel was...  
  
* * *  
  
"Hello Angel. I'm sure you're wondering why I called you here today." Wesley looked pleased with himself. "You know, I've always wanted to say that."  
  
"Yeah, uh, well done. So...?" Angel looked around Wesley's apartment. There was no surface left uncovered by books. "Why have you called me here?"  
  
"Oh! Right." Wesley pushed his glasses back as they threatened to fall off his face altogether. "Well, I've been doing some research of my own. Actually, when I say research, I mean something more akin to begging every person I've ever met who has any knowledge of anything to help me; and believe me, as a cultured person that is quite a few..."  
  
"Wesley. Please? I've left Spike alone with Cordelia. God knows what they might get up to." Angel smiled. The two had become quite a pair. Only the other day he'd had to give Spike a dressing down. He'd walked in to hear Spike teaching Cordy some fairly colourful English slang. He only heard the definition of 'wanker', but didn't want to know what else Spike had taught her. Hopefully, he hadn't got too far; 'wanker' was pretty basic for him. Although, she had called him a berk the other day; he wasn't even sure how to take that one. When Cordy had said that Spike was a 'top geezer', he'd had enough. They just found it amusing to torment him.   
  
"Right. Well, I've been trying to contact..." Wesley paused for dramatic impact, "the Powers that Be". Angel just gestured for him to go on. "You see, I thought that it might be useful if we could talk to them, find out more about your destiny. Well, uh, I wasn't really successful." Angel didn't look surprised. "But, I did find out something else along the way. It concerns..." he paused again for proper impact, "your soul." Ah, that was better, now he had Angel on tenterhooks. Hah.   
  
To be continued... (I'm sorry, it was too tempting.)  
  



	5. Singapore Slings and Other Things

Unwelcome, Unethical and Dangerously Perceptive  
  
Part 5  
  
"Singapore Slings and Other Things"  
  
Ooh, look, the title rhymes. Clever me.  
  
Yes! Yes!! I managed to get through sudden writer's block by reading some Jilly Cooper trash. So, here's another part. Please let me know what you think! This one took a while, but I really enjoyed writing it. It's pretty long (each part of this seems to get longer than the last, for some reason) , but, I hope, entertaining. There's angst, there's comedy, there's a curse loophole... Oh, and if you want any recipes for cocktails whatsoever, email me. Cocktail mixing is a hobby of mine, which results in quite a few fics, actually.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I don't want to say exactly what I don't own, because it would give it away, but everything but the plot line is owned by someone else.  
  
Feedback: I'd be really interested to hear your opinions... this is getting close to a resolution, so, I need an extra boost to get to the end.  
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"Uh, pet, do you want to explain at some point where we are? We been sucked into some kind of demonic dimension, or is this just like a branch of hell on Earth? I knew Starbucks had branches throughout the world, but I didn't think Hades was into chain marketing." Cordy giggled at his expression, as she sipped the Singapore Sling that the waiter had brought over to her as soon as they walked in. Spike was very confused. They obviously knew her quite well here. Didn't seem like the kind of place a girl like Cordelia would have found by herself, though.  
  
He looked around at all the other patrons. Demons sat serenely at tables, their true visages undisguised, mingling with the humans, and not trying to kill each other. The humans didn't even seem to notice the gruesome creatures surrounding them, and were definitely not bothered by it. He looked back at Cordelia, who was sitting opposite him, looking pleased with herself as his new wardrobe reminded her of her shopping triumph. He had on a pair of loose black pants, a deep blue silk shirt, and a new leather coat. He never thought he would actually meet someone who got that kind of buzz from a purchase, but the way Cordy was all lit up and glowing was rating quite high on his scale of disturbing things. Christ, he needed a strong drink. Not only had he survived a shopping trip with Cordelia Chase the evening before (and been made to buy up almost entire stores), but she'd mentioned something about some kind of fortune-telling thing at a... bar. Oh no.   
  
Suddenly, the crowds around them parted, and there stood one of the strangest demons Spike had ever seen. Sure, he had seen its type before, but never wearing a purple silk smoking jacket and a neat haircut.   
  
"He-llo, gorgeous and gorgeous!" He airkissed Cordy, who smiled at him, and cast an appraising glance over Spike. "Cordelicious, who is this sizzlingly attractive young man you have with you tonight? If I can really describe him as a man. Or young, for that matter." Spike was astonished. He must be some kind of mind-reader. Oh yeah, hence the fortunetelling. "Does your other tall, dark, extremely well preserved hunk know about this? Shame on you, you flirt!" Cordy grinned.  
  
"Spike, this is the Host. He owns this place. Spike is a friend of mine. Just a friend," she said, glaring at Spike. "Don't you get any ideas, evil dead."  
  
"Will our mysterious stranger be introducing himself to us all tonight? Because I would just love to see what is going on inside his head. Now what you be drinking, sweetheart? We have cocktail, liquor, entire spectrum of human blood, some quite exotic!" He noted Spike's bewildered expression. "I'll have something for you in a stir and a shake, don't you wander away, now." With that, the red-eyed lounge lizard marched back towards the bar, yelling something about measures and gin.   
  
Spike narrowed his eyes at Cordy. "Right-o. Explanation time. What the fuck was that?" She rolled her eyes and started to giggle again. "And what is in that drink?"  
  
"Geez, relax, mom. And there's no need for such vile language. So, whaddya think? Pretty weird place, huh?"  
  
"Love, I lived in London for a good part of the eighties, and the sixties, and I was at Woodstock, but this has to be one of the most whacked-out bars I have ever visited. Are the humans in here blind or something? And why the hell isn't everyone trying to hack each other to pieces?" He pointed to two demons who were amicably discussing something or the other. "Just yesterday, while you were in one of those little shops in that alley you dragged me down, I saw those two beating the unliving crap out of each other. And now they're, what, taking in dinner and a movie?" He slumped down in his chair. "Well, this has really brought my entire system of values crashing down about my head."  
  
"Spike, you don't have values. You don't have morals or ethics. Technically, nothing should muddle you." She raised an eyebrow, and waited for him to weasel his way out. He always tried. She found it funny.  
  
"Well. Let's pretend I do." Bugger. Uhh... "I mean, I have some... basic, codes of unlivin', and Willy's Bar in Sunnydale was bad enough, but this... this is just too upmarket-looking and neon-y for your average demon."   
  
"Nice try, Mr Rushdie. I have to say, your grasp of the English language is slipping in your advanced years. I may have to send you to a home for geriatric vampires." She looked pensive. "Wouldn't work, though. You'd get thrown out for sexually harrassing the nurses. You'd soon be back on my doorstep."  
  
"And don't you forget it," Spike said, leering at her for emphasis. Obviously, he never went any further than the odd ogle, or he'd be beaten to a pulp by Angelus. Spike knew enough now not to try it on with any of the elder vampire's women. Last time, he hadn't been able to walk for days afterwards. He winced at the memory. There were places that hot pokers should just not be allowed near. Although, there were certain women who knew how to inflict just as much emotional pain to a man. Maybe more. He'd left one of those women in Sunnydale. Spike liked to pretend that he didn't think about the Hellmouth, or any of the people on it, but in all honesty, she was still on his mind quite a lot. The only time he didn't end up thinking about her was when he and Cordelia were in their verbal sparring contests. In fact, ever since he'd come to Los Angeles, his obsession with the Slayer had ... well, he wasn't about to say that it had worn off, or that he had suddenly realised, 'hey! I don't want her at all!' because it would be total rubbish. He still wanted her. He just wasn't sure that he was as in love with her as he had thought.  
  
Cordelia looked at Spike's unusually serious face, and took a stab in the dim light at what was on his mind. "Y'know, it might help if you told me about it. She seems to cause this kind of pain and black misery in men." Cordelia hated Buffy for causing this kind of distress and torment in not only one, but two of the men she cared about most. Angel had emerged from his own tunnel of grim despair when it came to Buffy - in a strange, perverse way, the thing with Darla had somehow helped him move on with his life a little. Not that Cordy wanted his life to move in that direction. Definitely not. She had intended him to move more.. well, more in HER direction. Again with the crush. So not going to happen.   
  
She had taken it upon herself to make sure that Spike got over his own crush without the help of sleazy, psychotic 400 year old Buffy lookalikes. Shouldn't be too hard, but still. She also wasn't sure that she wanted him to end up running off with Drusilla again. That probably wouldn't help either.  
  
Spike smiled a little, as if amused by his own suffering, and exhaled heavily. He found exhaling very therapeutic, even if it was unnecessary.   
  
"I'm getting through it. I know I don't love her, not really, not in the I-want-to-be-with-her-forever kind of way, cos I really don't - how tolerant can a man be? There's only so much whining and bitching I can stand. But, my ever so slightly deluded fantasies won't just disappear at the click of your beautifully manicured, thanks in large part to Angel's credit cards -" she smiled, but gestured for him to get on with it "- hands. I think that a part of me doesn't actually want to let go, even though the majority is screaming what a complete bleeding moron I've been. Two guesses as to which part is going to win. The moron part," he clarified, as Cordy started to look worried.  
  
"Well, that's good. From what limited experience I've had with love - and it's not wholly reliable for later life, because, hello, dating on the mouth of hell? - anyway, I've learnt that you just have to let go. I mean, even that huge loser Xander Harris..." Spike nodded in agreement, "even he cheated on me. But I so didn't go crawling back. No, I moved on, and here I am! I survived." Spike studied her expression carefully.  
  
"But don't you ever wonder what would have happened if you had? Not that I'm encouraging a reconciliation, because I really think you're over and above him..." she smiled at him, her eyes glistening with tears. "Now don't make me out to be all sappy and nice, because I'm not; I'm nasty, and evil, and if I could, I'd kill you as soon as look at you," she nodded enthusiastically, but maybe a tiny bit sarcastically.  
  
"Yes, Spike, you manly vampire, you." Okay, maybe very sarcastically.  
  
"Anyway, my point is... wait, uh, yeah, my point is that even though you know that what you did was right, there's a really annoying, unpleasant part of you that makes you wonder. That part of you is the same fucked up part of me that wonders what would have happened if maybe, and we're talking minuscule, completely unrealistic, rearranging the cosmos maybes here, maybe Buffy had felt something back. But she didn't, so I'm just left as one sorry little vampire. But, y'know, everything happens for a reason. Hey, there you go, you've got someone to blame for my turning up here! Why don't you kill her because of it? Please?" Spike looked so hopeful, Cordelia almost thought he was serious.  
  
"Well, I could, but then who would be left for me to accuse of everything bad that ever happens? It's my policy - blame Buffy. More like my philosophy, actually." They shared a smile - that was a philosophy Spike could easily adopt. "But seriously, Spike. Get. Over. It. She's so not worth it, and I'd really hate to have to beat it out of you."  
  
"Point taken. Have you tried that little method of memory adjustment on Angel? If you've tried everything else, violence is always a good solution." He stared at her, for once, serious. She looked away, flinching under his gaze. "Don't think I haven't noticed the little flirting thing you two have got going on."  
  
"Spike, I don't know why you don't get neon signs, you remind me of my stupid crush so often. Wait, flirting? Between us? Yeh, right. In my dreams." Spike couldn't help laughing. My God, the girl was oblivious.  
  
"For an intelligent bird, you can be horribly thick. Angel, well, he has a strange way of expressing himself - bein' around him for two years plus, you probably know he's not exactly a social butterfly; he's a whole other type of butterfly, actually, but..." before he could go on, the Host reappeared, carrying a cocktail. Cordelia felt like screaming in frustration. For once, she really wanted Spike to finish his sentence. She had been really, really interested in what he was saying... Sometimes she just wished that Spike could finish a sentence once in a while. He always went off at a tangent.  
  
The Host handed the cocktail to Spike. "Here you are, a potent drink for an impotent vampire." Cordelia wondered if she might have to physically restrain Spike, but for the moment, he was just quietly growling. "Down, Tiger. It's a Blackjack - that's pretty much entirely Jack Daniels. But hey, you don't like, don't shoot the barkeep. No violence in here - Caritas. Now, before you start on the drink, I think it's time I saw deep into your empty husk of a being!" Spike was looking frantically for the nearest exit. "So, you look like a Sinatra kind of demon." All of a sudden, his eyes fixed on what he'd assumed was a decorative stage. He could now clearly see the karaoke equipment...   
  
At this point, Cordelia was glad that Spike was chipped. Otherwise, she wouldn't have had time to inhale sharply with fear before finding that her throat had been ripped out. Eh, he was safe. She took a sip of the brandy, gin and pineapple concoction, and watched a terrified and fuming Spike being dragged away by the sleeve of his new leather coat, which was the only thing he'd voluntarily purchased the night before. She allowed herself a small, self-satisfied smirk. That'll teach him to make fun of her obsessive-compulsive retail disorder.  
  
* * *  
  
Last night...  
  
Wesley was in the middle of his speech. Angel was bored, until: "It concerns..." he wished that Wes wouldn't insist on the pausing. "...your soul."  
  
Angel stared at Wesley. He felt a small pang of hope. Please, oh please... if he had his soul permanently, there wouldn't be even a small possibility he might lose control, do something stupid, and kill all his friends. Certainly, recently he had been tempted by a certain raven-haired beauty, whose skirts seemed to get higher, and blouses lower cut, every day. He was insanely jealous of all the time she was spending with Spike; he was so paranoid that he thought he might lose her to the blond. But he trusted her, and he still scared Spike enough to be able to trust him. He had a feeling that maybe Spike had picked up on some of his rampant emotions - actually, he knew that he had. It would explain all the snide comments. Unfortunately, Cordy showed no signs of recognition or reciprocation of the feelings. He noticed that Wesley had stopped talking, and was staring at him.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Uh, I was just informing you of my findings." This could be important. Concentrate, Angel, concentrate. "I have been carrying out extensive research into the various clauses, and premises, of the curse." Angel looked so hopeful that Wesley felt guilty. "I can't seem to find a loophole in that particular area." The vampire deflated before his very eyes. "But-" he perked up again- "would you please stop it?! I am in the middle of explaining some complex theories, and you keep looking at me like a battered puppy!"  
  
"I'm sorry, please do go on." Angel was so disappointed. If the theories were complex, it meant that Wesley hadn't been able to find anything, and was trying to cushion the blow with... what? "What did you just say?" He must remember to listen to what Wesley was saying in future. Because he was sure that he heard...  
  
"Your soul is permanent, Angel. If you could just pay attention, I would mmffrr!" Wesley found it very difficult to finish the sentence, as he suddenly found himself wrapped in a black trenchcoat. Wait, Angel was hugging him? As he was released, he jumped back and smoothed down the lapels of his suit. He addressed the grinning Angel. "If you are quite finished... well, after your recent foray into the grey areas, you had many people very worried. It is common knowledge that you are to be a key player during the coming apocalypse, and both the forces of good and evil want you on their side. You caused quite a stir, you know - Wolfram and Hart convinced the evil population of the world that they had you. So, you might imagine that I was quite surprised to find a elderly gypsy woman standing on my doorstep, say, last Friday. She handed me a manuscript, written in Rumanian."  
  
"The same time as Spike showed up..." Angel was working through the happiness induced haze, and things were falling into place.  
  
"Indeed. It seems that the Powers have some kind of plan for Spike, too. It was also very convenient that you and Cordelia were suitably distracted by his arrival that I was given time..." Angel arched an eyebrow, "fine, scared into staying at home. You know, William the Bloody is quite a legend, and as I was unaware of the chip situation..." Cordelia had informed him by telephone later in the week. By this time, Wesley was so engrossed in his translation of the scroll that he had just hmmed and agreed with everything she said. Afterwards, he had become quite worried that he had subliminally agreed to buy her expensive jewellery, and maybe a car... "Well, this manuscript. It turned out that it was actually a letter, from a Slavic tribe in Russia, the descendants of the tribe who first cursed you. The eldest daughter of the leader is a seer for the Powers, a little like Cordelia, but, instead of receiving visions of danger, she sees all the possible outcomes for major events in the future. In this way, the tribe can help the Powers by preventing unnecessary evil from coming to pass using their ancient magick. She received a vision of you, and the harm you could cause, but also the good you could bring about. Apparently, the vision was very... enlightening.  
  
"The elders, horrified by the prospect of Angelus fighting for evil in an apocalypse, called a meeting. At this meeting, the elders discussed your curse. They came to the conclusion that, although the curse was designed to subject you to eternal torment, the torment you might possibly cause if Angelus were to be released would be far worse. You are, and I quote 'atoning for the great evils you have caused by saving others.' As long as you keep doing that, and don't run off with another, how did they phrase it? Ah, yes, 'psycho bitch from hell'" - Angel was impressed. These gypsies really did know a lot about him. "I may have added that part myself. But the gist was, have your soul, have a nice, but still slightly painful, unlife, don't you dare turn even slightly bad or we'll eviscerate you with our thoughts."  
  
"Sound like good folk," Angel said, in all seriousness. He was still a little nonplussed by the fact that his soul was here to stay - he was almost human, but still on a liquid diet.  
  
"Oh, and I'm sure I don't need to tell you that if you do anything remotely moronic concerning a certain secretary/seer we both know, and one of us loves more than the other, you will have two very angry British men torturing you to death - one of whom was taught by the master." It suddenly hit Angel. Angelus would never be back. He still had the demon within him, but the soul was much stronger and more resilient. That wasn't the part he was thrilled about, though.   
  
Right, so here was the plan. Have a good night's sleep. Find Cordelia. Tell her how you feel. The results of that part would determine what would happen next, but if he was lucky...  
  
"I... I have to go."  
  
Angel disappeared so fast that, if he hadn't left footprints on Wesley's carpet, Wes might have thought that he had imagined the conversation. He was thrilled for Angel, but since he wasn't a native Rumanian, he'd had about three hours sleep in the last week, in between translating the manuscript. Sleep. Sleep sounded like a good plan.  
  
* * *  
  
Back to present...  
  
Angel could not believe it. When he'd first walked into the bar, he thought that everything had been a dream, and that he would wake up to find that his soul wasn't permanent, and Spike wasn't... he had then got knocked hard in the side by one of the excited, screaming onlookers, and realised it wasn't a dream.  
  
For there was Spike. On stage. At the karaoke bar. With the Host. And they were taking the roof off the place. Angel had always known Spike could sing, but he had never guessed how well...  
  
Cordelia, too, was gobsmacked. She had thought she would get a laugh out of seeing Spike make a fool of himself on stage. Certainly, when he had been first dragged up there, unprepared, he had looked horrified. But as soon as he got hold of a microphone... The Host had decided that he should sing "My Way". Spike had never been one to leave a challenge, so he had taken the mic. From the first note he belted out, Cordy swore that if she shut her eyes, Sinatra was in the room with them. She had never heard anything like it. She knew that Spike was into the 80s punk rock stuff, but could never have guessed that he was a closet Sinatra impersonator. Soon, heads in the bar started to turn, and conversations started to tail off. Spike moved on to Andy Williams, "Music to Watch Girls By". He was equally good at that. Demons and humans alike started to whoop and yell encouragement, soon they were all standing up and screaming. People from other bars started to crowd in. Caritas was packed. When the Host had picked up another microphone, and they started on duets, Cordelia stopped staring, stood up and joined the throng of dancing spectators. By the time Angel had walked in, Spike and the Host had started on the Sinatra/Bennet duet of "New York, New York", the Host doing his own interpretation of the Bennet part. Spike was just loving the attention he was receiving, particularly from the women, and seemed to get better and better as the audience got rowdier and rowdier.  
  
Angel pushed through the crowds to their usual table near the front. Sure enough, there was Cordelia, screaming encouragement as the Host and Spike hit the high notes dead on. He tugged at her arm, and she turned to face him.  
  
"Isn't this fantastic?" she yelled above the music. "How come you never mentioned that Spike is way talented?!"  
  
"I... need to talk to you." Seeing the strange look on his face, she nodded, and allowed him to lead her through the crowd. She was so pathetic. She was even getting little sparks running up and down her arm where he was touching her. As they left, Spike and the Host were singing the reprise again, and the noise was gradually crescendoing.  
  
"These little town blues  
They have all melted away  
And I'm gonna make a brand new start of it  
Right there in old New York"  
  
"You always make it there  
You make it anywhere  
Come on, come through  
New York, New York  
New York"  
  
One benefit of being a vampire, Spike thought. You could hold a note for a bloody long time, seeing as there was little need for oxygen. As the crowd screamed for more, he could just see Cordelia and Angel slipping out the back. Heh. Maybe Angel had finally 'bought a clue', as Cordy was so prone to saying. If not, he'd think up a strategy later. Right now, he was going to sing some more. He turned to the Host.  
  
"You up for another round?"  
  
"Absolutely, my fanged friend!" he replied, as he picked out another track. Yep, thought Spike, he could get used to the LA life. Particularly as now he had women throwing themselves all over him. Oh, the pressures of being talented and devastatingly handsome. He grinned as he launched into the next song.  
  
To be continued....  
[I just couldn't resist Spike doing Sinatra. My dad loves Sinatra, and was forcing me to listen to the duets album today. As soon as I heard the Bennet/Sinatra, I could just see Spike and the Host doing it. Sorry, could not withstand temptation... and I've almost got the Cordelia/Angel thing going...]   



	6. Nothing But the Whole Truth

Part 6  
  
Last part! Last part. Bit sad, really. But, if I get lots of lovely feedback, I may just be inspired to write more. Heck, I'll probably do that anyway, but feedback really helps.  
  
Hope everyone enjoyed this! Back to college for Katharine, but I shall keep up with the writing. Just not as often.  
  
Rating: R  
  
"Nothing But the Whole Truth"  
  
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The way Cordy saw it, she had two options. One, warn Angel that she was on the verge of throwing herself at him. If she did that, she might have to explain her feelings. Bad idea. Two, run away before he took her somewhere they'd be alone and she might embarrass herself by throwing herself at him. She was in serious need of a third option. Unfortunately, she couldn't seem to do anything but allow him to lead her away from Caritas, where she could still hear Spike and the Host singing up a storm.  
  
Angel had no idea where he was taking her, or what had possessed him to just suddenly grab her. He hadn't even planned out what he was going to say, so there was a large chance that he would either turn into a blabbering idiot and scare her away, or run out of words and make her laugh at him. His subconscious just wouldn't allow for the possibility that she might feel something towards him. But, he just had to get this off his chest. Particularly now that he didn't have to worry about the soul issue. It was funny, all the time that he had been with Buffy, he had sworn that as soon as his soul was anchored, he would go back to her, and spend the rest of her life, and a good deal of his unlife, by her side. He still felt that way - that is, if you substituted the word 'Buffy' for 'Cordelia'. Buffy hadn't even really crossed his mind.   
  
After a minute, he realised that he'd taken her back to where he had his car parked. She managed to extract herself from his grip, and turned to face him, her back to the car, arms crossed.  
  
"Uh, so, I guess we need to talk..." she left the sentence dangling, mainly because she couldn't think of anything else to say.  
  
"Yeah, we, uh..." Angel stood in front of her, trying to work up the courage to express himself. He had contemplated the various reactions he might get from her far too thoroughly, and had convinced himself that the most likely would be laughter, followed by a restraining order.  
  
Cordelia checked her nails, brushed the creases out of her skirt, and cleared her throat. Angel stared over her shoulder at the paintwork of his car, and shuffled his feet a little. After a minute of uncomfortable silence, each one trying to occasionally look at the other without catching their eye, they both looked up at the same time.  
  
"Cordelia, I have to tell you something." Cordelia thought that she was about to scream. He was using his 'this is very, very serious' tone of voice. That was it, she had to tell him how she felt before he said something that would make it impossible for her to follow. In a sudden burst of courage, and in a somewhat shaky voice, only partly due to the cold, she interrupted.  
  
"Angel, I have to say something too. And, please don't start laughing, or walk away in horror in the middle, just... just let me get it out." He nodded, worried by her tone. "Over the last couple of months, well, longer really, I've started to have these... feelings. Feelings that aren't really appropriate in the workplace. And I've wanted to say something, but it just seems so stupid. Then Spike," she smiled. "Spike, of all people, called me on it within an hour of his arriving here. He's always had a knack for saying the most horribly true things, hasn't he? He really is insightful in a bad, sees all your flaws way. Anyway," she caught herself wandering off topic, "Spike pointed out to me that I had been flirting with a particular person in the office for as long as he'd been here, and I realised, although the flirting seemed to be one sided to me, I just had to tell the other person. Because... because I think it may be more than a crush. I think... I love him?" she finished apprehensively, leaving it for Angel to interpret.  
  
Angel was crushed. "Well, I... I hope you and Gunn will be very happy together, but..." He wanted to do nothing more than beat Gunn to a bloody pulp around now. Cordelia was... laughing?  
  
"I'm not in love with Gunn! Geez, can you imagine? And Spike hasn't even met Gunn." That was true. But who could it... Angel thought through the possibilities. It wasn't Gunn, Spike hadn't met Wesley, David Nabbit? No, that was pushing it. So, it only left... Cordelia gave him a small, scared smile. She couldn't really read his expression- it could be shock, disgust, pretty much anything. "I'm not in love with Wesley, either, and I'm certainly not in love with Spike. I think... well, it's you, you big lug," she said affectionately, and waited for a response. When none came, she was on the verge of tears. "Emotions, laid out, heart on sleeve? Please say something?"  
  
Angel had run out of words. And he'd always thought that actions spoke louder, so... oh hell, why not? He leaned forward, and pressed his lips against hers. She stood bolt upright, in shock and confusion. Maybe this was one of her dreams, and soon she'd wake up, and... he gently pulled away, and looked very embarrassed. She hadn't responded at all, and he was beginning to wonder if he'd misunderstood her. Not that there was much to misunderstand, but...  
  
When he had stood back a little, she stared at him, then pinched her arm, hard. So hard that it made her yelp from the pain. He was still standing there, looking at her as if she'd lost her mind, and was very dangerous.   
  
"Just checking," she said in a husky voice, before flinging herself back into his arms, and kissing him hard. He was at first stunned, but not for long. He wrapped his arms around her waist, as she played with the hair at the nape of his neck. Pulling away a little, he kissed her lightly a few times, then ran his tongue along her bottom lip. Her mouth opened, and they began to kiss even more passionately than before, tongues exploring each other's mouth. He pushed her backwards against the car, and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he continued to kiss her and twist his fingers in her hair. As he felt her writhing against him, wanting more, he pulled away as reality set back in.  
  
"We can't do this..." he started. She looked very disappointed, but nodded slowly in agreement, unwrapping herself from him to sit on the bonnet of the car, and trying to get her breathing steady.  
  
"I know, we can't do anything, because of your soul. And, no matter how much I want to, I really don't think I could handle Angelus running free, trying to kill us all, and I understand if you don't feel the same as I do, but..." he silenced her with another light kiss, keeping his hand firmly about her waist.  
  
"Would you let me finish?" he asked, smiling. "I was going to say, we can't do this. Here. We could be arrested." She stared at him in bewilderment.   
  
"But... but your soul..."  
  
"My soul's permanent, Cordy. That was what I was going to tell you. I was also going to tell you that I thought I loved you too. Now, I'm sure." He felt positively elated being able to tell her this. It was like a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He thought he had been happy when Wesley had told him first, but that had been nothing compared to this feeling. If his soul hadn't been permanent, he'd have lost it just by looking at the expression on her face.  
  
Cordelia worked through various different emotions. There was shock, disbelief, surprise, and complete and utter delight. She had never thought that there was any chance that Angel could slightly return her feelings, let alone love her, and be able to have a proper relationship with her. She grinned up at him, fighting back tears. He was still smiling at her, something so unusual that it made her feel incredibly special and... aroused, really.  
  
"But... but how?"  
  
"I'll explain later. But first, I am going to take you back to your apartment, and make love to you all night long." He leaned down and kissed her again, opened the passenger door of the car for her, and very nearly ran round to the driver's side. Now, if he could just concentrate on getting back to her apartment block...  
  
* * *  
  
After nearly causing several accidents when she distracted Angel, and beginning to believe in miracles since they hadn't been stopped for speeding, Cordy fumbled for the door key in her purse, while almost passing out with pleasure as Angel kissed her neck. Normally, if a vampire was anywhere near her neck, she would scream and run, but all she could feel were erotic tingling sensations spreading throughout her body. Oh, to hell with the door keys.  
  
"Dennis! Let me in, damnit!" she yelled in desperation, as Angel kissed his way back up to her mouth. He picked her up as the door swung open, and carried her straight throught the living room and into her bedroom. She looked in horror at the unmade bed, and clothes strewn about the room, but he didn't seem to notice. He set her down on the bed, and she quickly kicked some of the dirty laundry that was lying near her underneath it.  
  
Sitting on the bed, she reached out for Angel, who was just standing at the end. She pulled him down on top of her, sliding the trench coat off his shoulders as he managed to unhook her bra through her dress. Quickly unbuttoning his shirt, she threw that too across the room, as he reached down to pull the dress over her head. Cordelia was usually incredibly confident when it came to her appearance, but she felt uncharacteristically shy. That was, until he took her bra right off, and started kissing and caressing her breasts. Then, all she could feel was intense ecstasy. She ran her fingers over his shoulders, tracing the lines of the tattoo that had always fascinated her, the few times that she'd seen it. She ran her fingers down his back, until she reached the belt of his trousers. Reaching between them, she undid the belt, and unhooked the button and pulled down the zip. He helped her, kicking both his trousers and boxers off. He slid her panties down her legs, and threw those too off the bed. They were both very aware that they were both very naked. Cordelia pressed herself against him, gasping at the size of him, and he kissed her tenderly.  
  
"I love you," he whispered.  
  
"Mmm, love you too, but I'm dying here!" she said, her frustration showing through. Angel softly laughed, and reached over to switch off the main light. A romantic glow was cast over them, and lit up the room as their bodies entwined.  
  
* * *  
  
They both awoke the next morning to the sounds of crashing, and a muffled "Bugger!". This set their minds at rest, as they knew that it could only be one person. Angel turned over, to find Cordy looking into his eyes.  
  
"Morning," he murmured, kissing her gently.  
  
"Hi... Angel, last night, it was... incredible." She smiled at him.  
  
"It was amazing for me, too. I love you so much." Before things could get any more serious, they heard another crash from the next room, and another string of colourful expletives. Cordy got up, and slipped on her dressing gown.  
  
"My God, I am so going to stake him! What the hell is he doing to my home?" She opened her door carefully, checking to see that there wasn't any direct sunlight. Luckily, her curtains had been drawn the night before, because she had never even thought of that in the middle of everything. She blinked, looking around for the cause of the noises.  
  
Sure enough, there was Spike, standing in the kitchen, trying to restack things into the cupboards he'd very nearly demolished. She coughed. Looking around, he saw her staring expectantly at him, waiting for an explanation.  
  
"Oh, 'ello, love. Didn't hear you get back last night." He leaned towards her, looking at her throat. "So, who's the lucky feller? Last bloke I saw you with was Angel, and we all know that he doesn't get much action. Which you obviously did." Looking down at her neck, she saw that she had a huge, glaring hickey. She pulled the robe tighter around her.  
  
"That, Mr Sinatra, is none of your business. And where were you, after your little concert last night? Hook up with the Host, did you?" He narrowed his eyes.  
  
"You're just jealous that I'm so exceptionally marvellous at everything. And if you could hear anything over the groaning of your own bed, you might have noticed that you weren't the only one who got some last night." He grinned lasciviously at her, and she exhaled with disgust.  
  
"You are disgusting. And you sleep on the sofa. There is no way any self respecting woman would sleep... wait, there is no way any woman at all would have sex with you at all."  
  
"Au contraire, my love, I had women positively throwing themselves at me last night. I had quite the pick. Since Angel pissed off elsewhere last night, I thought that he wouldn't mind me using his room." As if on cue, the door of aforementioned room creaked open. Cordelia looked around, and was suddenly frozen in shock.  
  
"Cordelia? What are you doing here?" asked the woman.  
  
"I live here. This is my apartment. You've been here before." she stuttered out through the horror.  
  
"Oh, yes. Looks different when it's dark, and you have a gorgeous man wrapped around you. I suppose you wouldn't know," she added spitefully. Cordelia went to correct her, just as Angel wandered out of her bedroom in just his boxers.  
  
"Cordelia, what is... Kate? What are you doing here?"  
  
"Pick of all the women, huh, Spike? Nice choice!" Cordy said sarcastically.  
  
Spike couldn't decide what he wanted to comment on first. "Know them, do you, pet?" Kate slowly edged towards Spike. Cordelia noticed that Kate was wearing one of the nice new shirts that she and Spike had bought. What a waste.  
  
"Yeah, but I don't like them. That one's dangerous... he's, he's not like us."  
  
Cordy tried very hard not to laugh, as Angel looked on in faint amusement. "I think Spike needs to hear it, Kate. Tell him," she prompted.  
  
"He's... he's a vampire!" she said dramatically. Spike nearly fell over laughing. "What? We need to stay away, he'd dangerous!" That just incited another peal of laughter.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, sure, the huge poofter's such a danger to mankind. Particularly since his soul's been anchored," he grinned as he saw the 'you knew?!' looks on Cordy and Angel's faces. "I intercepted a phone call from the Watcher fairy. He told me, after I threatened him for a bit. Seems that he noticed the sexual tension," he leered at them, "between you quite some time ago. He thought I should know about the soul anchorage in case you slept together, and I tried to kill you thinking you were all evil and stuff. Yeah right, like I'd be around long enough to try.   
  
"And sweetheart," he turned to Kate, "you'd be surprised at how much I know about vampires and creatures of the night. D'you think a human could hold their breath for that long?" He grinned suggestively at her as she started to back up. "'s alright, love, I don't bite. Any more. The great ballerina over there is my granddaddy. I'm 120 years old. No need to be scared, though. C'mon, you know you want me, really. It was quite good, last night, in my not-so-humble opinion..."  
  
"Very good," she said, walking back towards him. She turned to Cordelia and Angel. "Is he really... safe?"  
  
"As safe as a caged tiger, yeah, you could say so," Cordelia said, grinning at Spike, while still managing to be hostile towards Kate. Suddenly, Spike walked up to Kate, threw her over his shoulder, and walked back towards the bedroom with her, as Kate screamed, and also giggled.  
  
"You two have fun now," he yelled. "And if anyone ever asks who got you two together, you know what you're going to say."  
  
"Yeah, and I'll know who to say made you and Kate get it on at my speech at your wedding. Frank Sinatra and Jack Daniels!" Spike gave her the finger as he slammed the door shut. A couple of seconds later, moaning and giggling could be heard from the general direction. Cordy looked at Angel. He looked back.  
  
"Looks like Spike has the right idea," he said, suddenly moving towards her. He scooped her up in his arms, and carried her back towards the bedroom. Laughing, she planted a kiss on his lips as he kicked the door closed.   
  
"Because Spike is so full of good ideas. Quite the role model." Looking a little more serious, she continued. "Um, Angel, what we have... I know Buffy was the love of your life, and now you've got your soul..."  
  
"I want nothing more than to spend the rest of time with you." He smiled reassuringly at her. Because it was completely and utterly true.  
  
"Good answer," she said, a little choked, as tears rolled down her cheeks. "I love you. God, Spike is going to have an even huger ego if he thinks this is something he did."  
  
Angel thought about it. "He might have helped a bit, but it was inevitable. I'd have had to say something sooner or later - it was killing me. By the way, apparently the Powers have some plan for him, working with us."  
  
"The Host said something similar to me, before everything got incredibly raucous. Oh crap, that means that Spike'll be hanging around for a while. And maybe Kate. They seemed to really like each other."  
  
"Looks that way."  
  
"Well, you're aware that he'll beat you to near undeath if you're ever mean to me. He's very protective, for some reason. He nearly risked severe head trauma when this guy came onto me when we were shopping." She sniggered, and also felt good, when she saw the murderous expression on Angel's face. "Don't worry, I told the creep where to go."  
  
"Good. Wesley promised that he'd hurt me a lot if I ever did anything wrong." She groaned.  
  
"Did everyone see there was something between us before we did?"  
  
He chuckled. "Probably. I'm just glad we finally worked it out; I know that I was about to lose my mind."  
  
"It's only because you're really stupid, and didn't notice my varying degrees of cleavage. And the way we worked it out? I want to solve all our problems like that. Because that was...wow," he grinned in agreement. "In fact, I think I have a problem right now. In that, for people who've just got together, we're really not physically close enough." He grinned, and pushed her onto her back from where they'd been sitting on the edge of the bed.  
  
"Let's see what we can do about that," He rolled on top of her, smiling, and they started to kiss again passionately. Suddenly, there was a huge creaking noise from next the other side of the apartment, followed by a crash and laughter.  
  
"He'd broken the bed! I'm going to kill the little mmrf!" she was cut off as Angel kissed her again. "Maybe later."   
  
FIN  
  
Feedback, feedback! Might be an epilogue, maybe more, if you like. Hope we like the nice fluffy ending.  
  
kaffeineaddict@hotmail.com  
  
Go on, you know you want to.  



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